“I didn’t know if you were up.”
“I never fell asleep,” I said, continuing to stare at the ceiling.
Mom let out a long breath. “Do you want to stay home from school today? I think your teachers would understand.”
I didn’t feel like moving. I wanted to lie there completely still, like Matt was right now. I wondered if his body was already in the casket.
Mom looked at her watch. “Listen, I have to go or I’ll be late. Text me and let me know if you decide to stay home. I can call the school for you from work.” She bent down and kissed my forehead. “I think it’s a good thing the service is tonight. You’ll feel better when it’s over. I promise.”
Somehow I doubted that.
Chapter 13
I didn’t get up all day. Didn’t eat. Didn’t sleep. I stared. A lot. But the day managed to pass anyway. My cell vibrated more than once, and I knew it was Mom checking on me. I never called her to say I was staying home. I couldn’t face everyone at school, though. All the questions about Matt’s death, about our break-up. I’d break down and cry and who knew how many more deaths that would lead to. Maybe Alex was right. Maybe it was too dangerous for me to be around people right now. Or ever again.
Mom stormed into my room the second she got home from work. Saying she looked mad was an understatement, and I could imagine what all her voice mails sounded like. “You don’t get to do that to me! I get that you’re upset. I get that you’re hurting. But you are my daughter. Do you have any idea what it was like for me at work today? I was a wreck. I screwed up a major computer file. I almost lost my job. The only thing that saved me—that saved us—was me telling my heartless boss what happened Saturday.”
I sat up and pulled my knees to my chest. “You told him about Matt to avoid getting fired?” I didn’t want Mom to lose her job, but blaming her screw-up on Matt’s death seemed a little too convenient.
Mom looked horrified. “Tell me, what we would do if I lost my job? You know how hard I worked to get that position. I never went to college, Jodi. I don’t have the degree to be doing half of what I do.” She threw her hands in the air. “So yeah, I did use Matt’s death to save my job today. And you know what? It
was
the reason I screwed up. Matt’s death made you shut down. You wouldn’t answer a single one of my calls. Then, your school calls and tells me you never showed up. I had no idea if you were okay. That’s why I screwed up, Jodi.” She sat down on the edge of my bed and cried. Big sobs that made her shoulders shake uncontrollably. I wanted to wrap my arms around her and hug her. Tell her how sorry I was that I’d made her worry. Tell her… the truth.
But I couldn’t. I’d cry. I’d cry, and she’d be dead. And Alex was keeping his promise by staying away, so he wouldn’t even be here to bring her back. I hated my life. All of it. There was no way I could go to the funeral. Not unless they had a few extra caskets lying around to bury all the other people I’d end up sending to their graves.
I jumped up from the bed and ran to the door. Mom looked up at me, totally confused.
“Mom,” I sniffled. “I can’t do this.” She stood up and reached her arms out for me, but I took a step back and held my hand up to stop her. “Please. Don’t touch me, okay?” She stood still, staring at me like she didn’t even know who I was. “I can’t go to the funeral. I can’t face those people. I need to get away. Be by myself.”
“Honey, you were by yourself all day. This isn’t good for you. You can’t isolate yourself. You’ll never heal like that.”
“I need time, Mom. This is all happening too fast for me. I need time to process everything. Please.”
She nodded. “Okay, we don’t have to go to the funeral. We can stay home instead. We’ll cook a nice dinner. You always love when we cook a big meal together, and we haven’t done it in a long time.”
How was I supposed to leave her? How did you say goodbye without actually saying goodbye?
I had to make it through dinner. One last family dinner before I broke her heart and left for good.
“Yeah, dinner would be nice. Um, there’s just something I need to do first. Somewhere I have to go.”
“I’ll take you. Your car’s still in the shop.”
“No, I can walk.”
“I don’t like that idea. After the incident with that guy following you—” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable with you going out by yourself.”
I waved her off. “That was a big misunderstanding. He needed to talk to me. We’re fine now. Friends almost.” She looked skeptical, probably thinking I was only saying what I thought she wanted to hear. “Really, Mom. I promise.”
She picked up my cell and handed it to me. “Take this, and answer when I call.”
I nodded.
“Home by six-thirty.”
I looked at the clock. It was almost five. The funeral would be starting soon. “Got it. I better go before it gets any later.”
She kissed the top of my head. “If you aren’t home by six-thirty, I will drive around screaming your name out the window.” That made us both laugh because we knew it was true.
I half-walked, half-ran to the cemetery. We lived pretty close to it if I cut through some people’s yards. I got there just as they were throwing flowers on Matt’s grave. I stayed hidden in the trees, not daring to get any closer. No more accidents. Matt’s parents and his sister, Amber, were huddled together at the head of the casket. They looked like their worlds had been shattered. I felt the tears sting my eyes and looked around to make sure I was still alone and it was safe for me to cry.
I waited until everyone left. Matt’s body was in the ground. I walked over to his grave, picking up a stray red rose on the way. I laid it on top of the grave. “I’m so sorry, Matt.” I wished I had something better to say. Something that would actually make a difference. But what did you say to the guy you kissed, killed, and turned into a zombie? Hallmark didn’t make a greeting card for that, and I was at a loss. I wondered what would happen if I dripped tears on his grave. I didn’t want to find out, so I backed away, right into Alex.
“You shouldn’t have come.” His tone wasn’t reprimanding; he was genuinely worried about me.
“I had to say goodbye.”
“I know.” He gently turned me around to face him. “Did you figure out a way to say goodbye to your mom?”
“No.” I pretended to look at a bird in the distance. “But I’ve decided that I owe her one last family dinner. We’re cooking a big meal when I get home. Then—well, I don’t know what, but I’ll leave somehow. I can’t risk anything happening to my mom. Breaking her heart is better than stopping it for good.”
“I can help you if you want.”
“How?” I faced him again. “What would you say? You’re the guy who stalked me, but you only wanted to tell me that I can raise the dead and that my blood, tears, and saliva are poisonous to humans? You think that will make it easier for her to let me go with you?”
“Okay, point taken. I have my cell on me. Call me when you’re ready to go.” He walked away, stopping at Matt’s grave and placing a rose on top. I hadn’t even noticed he was holding it.
I made it home with two minutes to spare.
“You’re lucky,” Mom said, taking out a frying pan. “I was about to get my car keys.”
“I’m surprised you weren’t warming up your vocal cords.” It felt good to act normally. I wanted a normal night. Something nice to remember when I was gone.
“Green peppers and onions are on the counter. Could you chop them up and fry them for me? I need to finish seasoning the chicken.”
I grabbed the knife and started chopping the onion. It hurt like hell thanks to the cuts on my fingers.
“How was it?” Mom asked.
“What?”
“The funeral. I’m figuring you went and sat in the back where no one would see you.”
I stiffened, jerking the knife in my hand. I felt it slice into my thumb. No! Blood dripped a thin red line down my left thumb and onto the cutting board. I stood in shock. I didn’t want to make any sudden moves that would let Mom know what had happened. I had to get my blood cleaned up before she saw it and wanted to help. My heart thumped so loudly I barely heard Mom saying my name.
“Jodi! You could at least acknowledge that you heard me. Even if you don’t want to talk about it.”
“Talk about what?” I asked, trying to sound casual as I squeezed my finger and reached for the roll of paper towels.
“The funeral. Is everything okay? Do you need help chopping those?”
“No!” I answered, way too quickly. “I, um, broke a nail. That’s all. I’ll finish chopping in a second.” It was the lamest excuse ever.
Mom put the chicken in the oven and then reached for the cutting board. “Here. Give me the knife, and I’ll finish these. You go—” It took me too long to remember I’d bled on the cutting board.
“Mom, no! Stay back!” I grabbed the cutting board, pulling it toward me. I slid it across the counter and into the sink, onion and all.
“Jodi, you cut yourself. Let me see.”
“It’s nothing.” I squeezed the paper towel tighter around my finger, willing my blood to clot already.
“I have to make sure you’re okay. You’re bleeding.”
“I’m fine. I’ll just go wash it off in the bathroom sink.” The knife was still on the counter, and the edge was tinted red. I reached for it.
“I’ll clean that,” Mom said. “Go rinse your hand.”
“No! Really, I got it.” I grabbed the knife and put it in the sink. I ran the water, watching my blood go down the drain. It didn’t look any different than normal blood. How could it be so poisonous?
Mom reached for the paper towels and started wiping the counter. “Stop!” I reached for the paper towel. As I turned, I smacked my hand on the faucet. I cried out as my thumb hit the cutting board in the sink. The paper towel fell off my thumb and landed in the sink.
Mom stopped trying to clean the counter, her eyes falling on my hand. “We have to take you to the emergency room. You might need stitches.” I thought about Dr. Alvarez. He died because of me. Another one of my victims. I couldn’t let that happen again. I grabbed the paper towel Mom had left on the counter and wiped the surface, making sure none of my blood was lingering anywhere. I threw the paper towels in the garbage and tried to tie it shut. I wasn’t sure if dried blood would be able to kill, and I wasn’t about to find out when Mom got rid of the trash. Tying one-handed wasn’t easy, especially since both hands had cuts on them.
“Honey, what are you doing? Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it later. Right now I only care about getting your hand checked out.”
She wasn’t going to let up. I was hurt, and all she could think about was helping me. If I didn’t tell her the truth fast, she was going to end up getting killed.
“Mom, there’s something you don’t know about me. Something you aren’t going to like.”
“Whatever it is, you can tell me after we go to the emergency room.” She went for her purse on the kitchen table.
“No!” I had to get her attention. Make her listen. “I have to tell you now. Before anyone else dies because of me.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “I think you’re losing too much blood. You aren’t thinking straight. No one has died because of you.”
“Yes, they have.” I couldn’t get into the details. I couldn’t risk crying on top of bleeding. Mom came back into the kitchen. “Please, Mom. Don’t touch me.”
“What is with this ‘no touching’ thing you have going on lately? I don’t understand, Jodi. Please, fill me in. What’s going on with you?”
“I’m not who you think I am. I’m something called an Ophi. It means I have different blood than you do.”
She shook her head, and her nostrils flared. She thought I was making this up, and she was getting angry.
I continued before she could yell at me. “Remember that guy who was following me? The one who needed to talk to me? Well, he’s the one who told me this. He’s like me, and he wants to help me.”
Mom cocked her head to the side. “Wait, is he the reason you and Matt broke up?”
“What? No!” I squeezed my thumb in anger and winced in pain.
“We don’t have time for stories right now, Jodi. You need a doctor.”
“No! My finger isn’t that bad.”
“Then why won’t you let me see it?” Mom slammed her hand down on the counter.
“Because if you touch my blood, you’ll die. You’ll die just like Matt did when he kissed me. Like Dr. Alvarez and Nurse Steingall. My blood is like poison.” I was shaking, probably because I was holding back, fighting every urge to cry.
Loud knocking on the back door interrupted whatever Mom was about to say. I moved around her, making sure we didn’t come in contact, and opened the back door.
“Now are you ready to come with me?” Alex asked.
“Were you watching me again? You’re like a peeping Tom.”
“I’m trying to save your life, and apparently your mother’s, too. Are you going to let me in so I can help you explain all this to her?”
I stepped aside and let him pass. “Ms. Marshall, I’m Alex. I’m like your daughter. An Ophi. Only I was raised into a very different kind of life. My parents are Ophi, too. I want to take your daughter to a safe place where we can help her learn to control her abilities.” He was blurting it out, like he knew he was only going to get one shot at this.